Scomiche Drabbles
by keep-turning-the-pages
Summary: Just a collection of Scomiche drabbles. I do accept requests for more Scomiche drabbles! Pentatonix is my life!
1. Caramel Apples

Scott stabbed a stick violently into the apple, sighing in relief when it finally sunk into the fruit and stayed secure. The bottom of the apple was littered with shallow holes and dents, left from his previous attempts at getting the stick into the fruit.

He pulled his bowl of melted caramel towards him, rolling the apple in it until it was thickly coated with the sweet substance. He plopped it down onto the tray. '_One,' _he thought with exasperation as he began to poke another stick into the next apple.

He had always wanted to make these things, but he hadn't realized how hard they were to create. Beyonce played from his iPod radio loudly as he rolled the apple into the caramel, so he didn't hear Mitch open the door, but he felt the cold autumn breeze on the back of his neck instead.

"Mitch, come help me with these!" he called to his boyfriend.

"What are you doing?" Mitch laughed as he wrapped his arms around Scott's waist, resting his forehead against his back. "I'm making caramel apples, and I need you to help me," Scott raised the third apple from the melted caramel, a long string of the sweet dripping back down into the container. "Because they're sort of hard to make."

Mitch leaned over the counter and ran his finger through the caramel. Scott slapped his hand gently. "I asked you to help, not to contaminate the food!" he scolded playfully. Mitch raised his eyebrows at him and sucked the caramel off of his finger with a smile. He nodded approvingly. "It's surprisingly good. I approve."

Scott rolled his eyes and returned to his work of stabbing an apple. "I just melted a bunch of those little candies. I don't know if that's how you do it, though."

Mitch kissed Scott on the cheek. "It tastes good anyway." Scott smiled, his hand moving as he tried to lean into the kiss, causing a dribble of caramel to land on the counter. "Oh no!" he laughed, wiping the mess up with his finger. "You're distracting me! Go away!" he joked.

Mitch raised one eyebrow with a suggestive smirk and leaned in close to Scott's ear, his voice suddenly very quiet. "You want a distraction?" He licked Scott's ear seductively, and the blonde shuddered in pleasure. He shook it off quickly, though.

"No!" he chuckled, grabbing another apple from the bowl. "I'm making food!"

"Not for long," Mitch said, running his hands along Scott's waist. Scott tried desperately to ignore Mitch, and he continued on making the apples. Mitch trailed feather-light kisses along the back of Scott's neck, effectively making him shiver.

"Stop it," Scott whined. He was unable to resist any longer. He set down his ingredients and turned around quickly, startling Mitch. Scott pulled Mitch in for a kiss, slamming his lips against his boyfriend's.

Mitch made a small sound of pleasure and wrapped his arms around Scott's neck, standing on the tips of his toes. Scott found this terribly endearing and opened his mouth, allowing Mitch's tongue to enter.

They pulled away from each other slowly, but only enough to catch their breath. "Have you given up on the apples yet?" Mitch murmured against Scott's lips, grinning. Scott smiled and whispered, "I think I have."

He then took Mitch's hand and pulled him gently to their shared bedroom, eager for some action.


	2. Jazz

_**A/N: Just a cute little drabble for DoctorMonster**_

**Jazz**

Scott leaned against the door frame, two coffees in each of his hands, and smiled softly. Jazz music was blaring out of the radio, and Scott knew that Mitch secretly loved this particular genre. His proof was right in front of him.

Mitch was dancing around the living room, spinning around in circles and snapping his fingers to the beat, a huge smile on his face. Scott giggled quietly to himself when his boyfriend picked up Wyatt and spun around with him, the sphinx meowing grumpily.

Scott felt like he could remain watching Mitch dance around for forever.

Mitch did a particularly passionate spin and stumbled, falling safely onto the couch. Scott rushed forward anyway, slightly worried, and sat himself down next to Mitch, setting the coffee mugs down onto the table. Mitch was lying on his back, laughing.

"Are you alright?" Scott chuckled, pulling his boyfriend up into a sitting position. "I'm fine," Mitch was still giggling slightly.

Scott smiled lovingly at the smaller man, and Mitch grinned back, pecking him lightly on the lips. He stood, pulling Scott up with him. "Dance with me?" he asked in a mockingly formal tone, even adding in a small bow. "I'm the tall one, idiot," Scott teased, but he still took Mitch's offered hand.

They danced together, laughing the entire time. Scott spun Mitch around and then pulled him against his chest, wrapping his arms around him. They swayed to the beat for a small while, before Mitch pulled away from Scott slightly and leaned up. "I love you," he told him, then proceeded to kiss the blonde.

Scott kissed back, his heart lifting at the words. He broke off the kiss and pressed his forehead against Mitch's, whispering, "I love you too."

Their moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. Mitch went to answer it, calling out behind him, "You know, this is the third time Superfruit's played the role of the cock-block of the century."

Scott laughed and relaxed against the couch, content. He didn't see how anything could be better than this.


	3. Bookshops and Coffee

_**A/N: Just a cute lil' drabble I typed up in the ungodly hours of the night. To Skyler and scomiche: I will certainly write those drabbles, and I LOVE those ideas! Thank you!**_

Mitch loved working at Anderson's. He had never been a very big reader himself, but there was just something about the smell of paper mingling with coffee and the cozy atmosphere that relaxed him.

He had decided around a week ago that he had nothing good to do just laying around the apartment, with Scott being gone most of the time for various reasons, and he had decided to go and get himself a second job. He had browsed around the city, looking for something interesting, and eventually running across Anderson's.

Anderson's was a cozy little bookshop with a coffee barista nestled inside. Big, squishy armchairs littered the shop, waiting to be curled up on, and towering bookshelves stocked with books loomed over customers. There was a second floor for the children's books, and stuffed animals were also often found up there.

Mitch smiled as a young boy raced up the staircase, conquering two stairs at a time, his mother calling out for him to slow down. Mitch continued to stack the new books onto the bookshelf, trying to be careful with the binding. He had already accidentally ripped the front cover off of a Harry Potter book a few days earlier, and he wasn't about to make the same mistake.

"Ooh, Mitch!" his friend, Erin, sang teasingly from behind the cash register. "Someone's here to see you!" Mitch frowned and turned to look at the door, numerous customers following his movements. He was shocked to find a tall blonde waving at him vigorously from the front of the shop.

"Scott?" Mitch made his way towards his boyfriend, grinning widely. "What are you doing here?"

Scott bent down and gave Mitch a quick peck on the lips; there was a collective 'aww' from the browsing customers. Mitch blushed and called out to Erin, "Tell the boss I'm on my lunch break!" and then proceeded to tug Scott out of the store.

"Why did you come here?" Mitch asked, the red fading from his cheeks.

"I just wanted to take you out for coffee," Scott said, smiling. Mitch rolled his eyes and laughed slightly. "And also embarrass me in front of all of the customers, apparently."

Scott gave him an offended look and huffed dramatically. "You're embarrassed to be dating me?"

Mitch felt all of the blood drain from his face. "No, no! That's not what I meant, I love you! I was only saying—"

Scott interrupted him, laughing. "I know! I was just teasing you." He poked Mitch in the stomach, and the counter-tenor squealed in protest. "Hey!"

Scott chuckled. "So, coffee, then?"

Mitch smirked up at him. "You realize I have a coffee bar at work, right?"

Scott gaped dramatically and placed a hand to his chest. "Are you suggesting that you don't want to go and get coffee with me?"

"No!" Mitch laughed, pushing Scott playfully. "I'll go to a café with you. Don't worry."

They began to walk down the street towards their favorite café, and Scott wrapped an arm around Mitch, pulling him close. Mitch couldn't help the feeling of pleasure that warmed his chest when Scott kissed his cheek, and he grinned, leaning into Scott. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped by everyday, you know," he said, trying to match his footsteps with Scott's. He eventually gave up, Scott's strides to large for Mitch to keep up with.

"You mean you wouldn't mind if I embarrass you in front of your customers?" Scott asked. Mitch could hear the smile in his voice. "No," Mitch mock-sighed. "I guess I wouldn't."

He grinned up at Scott, and their lips met in a sweet kiss.


	4. Jealousy

_**A/N: This one's for Skyler! I hope you like it! This is a small continuation of Bookshops and Coffee, but could stand on its own. I feel like I hit two birds with one stone on this one – I got a request done, and a couple of people were asking for more of the Bookshops and Coffee! Enjoy!**_

Mitch and Scott entered the café, shivering. Scott sighed in relief as the warmth reached his face and hands, inhaling the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

"We can't stand here forever, Scott," Mitch laughed, tugging his boyfriend towards the short line for the barista. Scott's heart skipped a beat in his love for Mitch, who was adorable in his excitement for coffee. In fact, he almost seemed to be radiating energy.

"Maybe you don't really need the caffeine," Scott teased, smiling fondly at the shorter man. Mitch gasped in mock outrage. "How dare you suggest such a thing?"

They soon reached the end of the line, and the barista leaned on the counter, smiling at Mitch. "How can I help you?"

Scott couldn't help but notice that the barista was particularly good-looking, and a flare of jealousy bloomed in his chest. "I'll have the caramel mocha, please," he said rather loudly, pulling Mitch slightly closer to him. Mitch looked up at him, his face a mixture of confusion and amusement.

"Alright," the barista said, grabbing a cup. "And for the gorgeous brunette?"

Mitch flushed, smiling shyly, and Scott felt anger and jealousy rising up inside of him. "My _boyfriend,_" Scott empathized the word as much as he possibly could. "Would like a hazelnut macchiato."

The information didn't seem to daunt the barista at all, although several people looked up. "A brilliant drink for a brilliant person," the worker flashed a dazzling smile at Mitch, and Scott immediately began dragging him to the furthest table from the counter.

They sat down, and Mitch raised an eyebrow at him. "That was an abrupt departure."

Scott sighed. "Whatever. They bring the coffee to you, so we don't have to get back up, luckily."

Mitch eyed him suspiciously before eventually telling Scott about his day at Anderson's, and the kid who kept tearing the paperbacks apart deliberately. Scott looked over at the barista as Mitch was speaking, and noticed that he had just finished making the coffee and was bringing it over to them. Before Scott had any time to prepare, the barista was at their table.

"Caramel mocha," he said indifferently, sliding the coffee over to Scott. "And the hazelnut macchiato." The barista then leaned in so close to Mitch that Scott cleared his throat loudly. "Alright, thank you. Goodbye!" It was a deliberate dismissal and the worker knew it. He went away, but not before he winked at Mitch flirtingly.

Scott and Mitch sat in silence, Mitch twirling his cup around, until Mitch suddenly exclaimed. "Oh my God! He left me his number!" He spun his cup around so that Scott could see seven digits hastily scrawled across the Styrofoam. Mitch was grinning, and Scott felt his jealousy rear its ugly head.

"He's going to get it."

Mitch leaned over the table and grabbed Scott's hand, still smiling. "Scott!" he laughed. "It's okay! He causes no threat to our relationship. I have no interest in him," Mitch assured his boyfriend.

Scott felt a great amount of love for the small tenor, and leaned over the table to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He relaxed, and they enjoyed the rest of their date.

But, when they left, Scott glared at the barista. Just to be safe.


	5. Stage Fright

_**A/N: This is for the amazing Peter_Ambos! It probably would have taken me a while to post this one, but thanks to the lovely dealepage, I was inspired to write this! Thanks to you both, and I hope you enjoy! I love you all!**_

Scott could feel his heart beating nervously in his chest as he peeked past the curtains secretively. He swallowed as he stared out at what seemed like a thousand audience members and ducked back behind the curtain. His jacket suddenly felt like it was suffocating him; he took it off, wiping his sweaty palms off on his jeans.

He didn't usually get stage fright. He had always - it seemed like - strutted out onto the stage with confidence. But this was _New York_, the Big Apple, home of _Broadway._ More than one major critic was out there, in the audience. Scott tried to run through his vocal warm ups, trying desperately to calm his nerves. "_Doe, ray, me, fa, so, la, ti, doe!_"

Oh, God, he was pitchy. He definitely wouldn't be as good as he had hoped, they were going to humiliate themselves, they were—

"Is something wrong?" Mitch's voice interrupted his thought process, jerking him out of his downward spiral of panic. Scott relaxed into his boyfriend when the counter-tenor wrapped his arms around Scott's waist.

"I'm just nervous," he mumbled, feeling a healthy sized amount of shame bubble up inside him. He heard Mitch snort from behind him. "_You _have stage fright? I feel like I'm about to puke."

Scott felt a certain sense of comfort when Mitch admitted that he was anxious also. At least one person understood. "But," Mitch sighed after a few moments of silence, unhooking his arms from Scott and walking around the blonde until they were facing each other. "I think I know how to fix it."

Scott raised a skeptical eyebrow at his boyfriend. "Oh, really? How?" he asked, his words heavy with criticism. Mitch only grinned and checked his watch. "We have twenty minutes before we go on, right?"

"Um… yes?"

Mitch's smile suddenly turned mischievous, and Scott felt a little uneasy. Good things did not follow that look. "Do you think the others could handle a little prank?" Mitch inquired. Scott's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "No, Mitch. We don't have time to do that right now."

Mitch's face fell at his words, only to be replaced by a gleeful expression. "We'll just go and steal food from the buffet, then."

"We have a buffet?" Scott was incredulous; honestly, a buffet?

"Well, technically, no. It's just a small table with different cookies on it, but its still food."

Scott grinned. "Let's go." But, before they could go anywhere, Scott bent down and placed his lips against Mitch's, pulling him in for a satisfying kiss. Mitch sighed with pleasure, and they broke apart. Scott leaned his forehead against Mitch's, murmuring, "Thanks for making me feel better."

Mitch smiled. "It's my special skill. Now, let's go, they have chocolate over there."

When Pentatonix finally walked out on stage, all Scott could was hope that he didn't have any chocolate on his face.


	6. iPod

_**A/N: Okay, so this little idea popped into my head suddenly earlier today, and I just had to write it down. I hope you like it! This is set before the days of Pentatonix, when they were all in high school.**_

Scott shivered, rubbing his arms in a poor attempt to warm himself. He sincerely regretted wearing a T-shirt to the park – it was a stupid decision, really.

His teeth started to chatter, and Mitch looked at him, amusement written all over his face. "A little cold, Scott?" Scott nodded, not even pretending to be offended by the little jab. Mitch just laughed and shimmied off his sweatshirt, passing it to his friend. Scott gratefully pulled it on, sighing at the warmth the extra layer provided. Mitch giggled again and pulled his jacket on, and they continued walking around the small park.

Scott arrived at home around five, and was relieved to find that his parents weren't home. He wasn't supposed to have been out – Mitch's incessant begging had convinced him to defy his parents' orders.

He ran up the staircase and threw himself, literally, onto his bed. He landed heavily on his stomach, bouncing slightly, and felt something hard jab his torso.

"Ow," he muttered, lifting himself into a sitting position and plunging his hand into the sweatshirt pocket. Cool metal grazed his fingertips, and he pulled out the slim object. He looked down, surprised, at the green iPod resting in his hands, with white, marshmallow ear buds wrapped around it. Mitch must have left his iPod in the pocket when he had given it to Scott.

Scott turned the little device on, smiling at the dents and scratches on the machine. Mitch was always so clumsy – dropping things and tripping constantly – and he was never seen without his iPod. The device was obviously well-loved.

Scott pushed the marshmallow ear buds into his ears – the regular ones could never fit into Mitch's ears – and scrolled through the iPod's music. He selected the playlist option and went through those, stopping suddenly when he reached the middle. There was a playlist named after him.

He quickly checked to see if there were any playlists named after Mitch's other friends, but found none. He went back to his playlist, swallowing nervously as he selected it.

He pressed _Shuffle _and closed his eyes, listening to the music. He smiled as the Beatles' _Love Me Do _played, as well as several other love songs. Soon, he turned off the iPod, unable to stop grinning. He heart was pounding as he leapt up off of his bed, grabbing the sweatshirt and iPod and racing out of the house.

He ran down the street and continued until he was several blocks away from his own house and approaching Mitch's. Assuming the tenor was already home, he knocked rapidly on the door until Mitch's very short, very Italian mother answered.

"Can I speak with Mitch?" he asked breathlessly. She nodded slowly, inviting him in. "He's up in his room," she told him, but he was already halfway up the stairs.

Scott burst into Mitch's room, and Mitch jumped in shock, whirling around to face Scott from his place at his desk. Mitch frowned, obviously confused. "Scott? What are you—"

Scott tossed the iPod at the shorter teen, who caught it quickly. "I listened to the playlist," he told him, still slightly out of breath. Mitch's expression of terror told Scott the entire story. "You what?" Mitch asked, his voice quiet.

"I thought it was awesome," Scott said, crossing the room. "I think it goes perfectly with my playlist about you."

Before Scott was aware of what had happened, Mitch's arms were wrapped around his neck and he was kissing him. Scott kissed back eagerly, winding his arms around Mitch's waist.

He definitely didn't regret wearing only a T-shirt to the park.


	7. Earthquake

_**A/N: This one's for the lovely ptxholicc. I hope you all like it! I don't know too much about earthquakes (given my unfortunate inexperience in anything other than maybe a violent thunderstorm) so I hope you forgive me if I made any mistakes.**_

Mitch's eyes snapped open as his entire bedroom shook violently, his bed shuddering underneath him and his lamp making a rattling noise as it moved across his nightstand. It didn't take long for adrenaline to take over his grogginess, effectively awakening Mitch, and he stumbled out of bed, bracing himself against his dresser while the Earth rumbled. He heard a shattering noise from the living room, and thought, _'That had better not be my fabulous cat statue.'_

Suddenly, the shaking stopped. Everything was eerily calm after the earthquake, and Mitch felt shivers run along his spine. There would almost definitely be another one, and all he could do was brace himself for it.

Soon enough, the world began to shake, only much more violently. For the first time, Mitch felt fear run cold through his veins as small flakes of ceiling fell down onto the quaking ground. In a burst of pure adrenaline, Mitch left the safety of his dresser and scrambled for the door, falling to the side as the Earth jolted violently. He caught himself against the doorframe and pushed himself forwards, crossing the hall to open Scott's door.

He made his way towards Scott, who was still in his bed but wide awake, and eventually collapsed on top of the mattress. Scott's body seemed to deflate with relief as he wrapped his arms around Mitch, pulling him close. Mitch relaxed into his boyfriend, burying his face into his chest and shaking slightly as the earthquake gave its all.

Almost as quickly as it had begun, the shaking stopped, and silence pressed against their ears. Mitch's were ringing loudly, unused to the quiet. The couple waited with baited breath for another round of shaking, but nothing came. After five minutes Mitch relaxed, his entire weight resting on Scott. Scott stroked his back, his own heart beating wildly.

They hadn't had an earthquake that bad in a while. But that's the thing about California: it always keeps you on your toes.

"Guess Mother Earth thought we were getting a little too comfortable, huh?" Scott joked, still slightly breathless. Mitch giggled quietly into Scott's chest, the small chuckle turning into a full on laugh. Soon, they were both bent over in laughter, giddy from the relief that the earthquake was over. They fell into a comfortable silence, and Mitch lifted his head off of Scott's chest, instead kissing him lightly on the lips. "If my cat statue broke, you're going to have to buy me a new one."

Scott sighed dramatically. "_Fine," _he groaned, trying to keep the smile off of his face. "But only because I love you."

"I love you too, idiot," Mitch laughed, pecking him lightly on the nose before giving him a full on kiss with lips and tongue and everything Scott loved about kissing. They pulled apart, both tired from the small adventure, and they fell asleep together on Scott's bed.

They've been sleeping together ever since, both unable to sleep without the other there beside them.


	8. You Are My Sunshine

***_A/N: This is for meganrraaee. I am so, so sorry. This is angsty – there, I've warned you.***_

_You are my sunshine,_

_My only sunshine_

_You make me happy,_

_When skies are gray_

_You'll never know, dear_

_How much I love you_

_Please, don't take my sunshine away_

'You Are My Sunshine' had always been Scott's favorite song.

His mother, one night, had sung it to him when he'd had trouble sleeping. He was afraid of the dark, you know? Apparently, the song had worked so well that it had put him to sleep in less than three minutes. After the outrageous results of the cheerful song, she'd sing it every time he felt hurt, scared, or sad.

When his mother died, he'd kept that song close to his heart. He never sang it, and he made sure to listen to it only when he was alone. It was sacred; no one else was special enough to experience it.

He remained in that mindset until he met Mitch. They'd met in the school play, 'Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory', and became fast friends. Scott had only discovered his feelings for Mitch at the end of their senior year in high school, and only acted upon them several years afterward. And to his shock and joy, Mitch returned the feeling.

The first time Scott sang 'You Are My Sunshine' to Mitch was when they were both lying in bed. Mitch had just had a horrible nightmare, and while he refused to tell Scott what it was about, the blonde could piece together that it was a bad one. Mitch had been shaking and sobbing, his face buried into Scott's chest. Scott had felt a strange urge to sing it, and so he did. He sang it softly, and sweetly, until Mitch fell asleep on top of him. He then placed a light kiss on the side of his boyfriend head, love for the small tenor pulsing through him.

Scott is glad to say that the love never did stop pulsing through him.

The song quickly became theirs afterward, and they sang it to each other whenever the other was upset, or hurt.

But the second time Scott had sung it to Mitch and really _meant _it was in the doctor's office, when they'd been given the horrible news. Mitch only had a few months left to live, and the news crushed Scott more than he could possibly describe.

As Mitch cried into him, whispering, "I just want to spend more time with you, I'm not ready, I'm not ready to let you go…." Scott sang to him, tears streaming down his own face.

They had done everything Mitch had wanted to do, from getting matching tattoos to taking that one trip to Iceland, using their savings. But Mitch had begun to wilt before Scott's eyes, soon requiring him to travel around with a mobile oxygen tank, and then having to lie down and sleep constantly. But Scott still spent the majority of his time with Mitch, watching movies with him and cuddling, kissing him. He joked around with him, because Mitch could still laugh. He was still Scott's Mitch.

Mitch was hospitalized after a particularly rough night, and he remained in that bed for the remainder of his life.

Scott sat with him, every single day. Yes, the other members had visited constantly, his parents came most days, but Scott made sure to _always _be there for his Mitch.

He remembers gripping Mitch's hand tightly, sobbing and somehow knowing that this was Mitch's last night. He remembers kissing Mitch so lovingly, so gently, and so many times he lost count. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready to let Mitch go. He _needed _Mitch, he needed to be with him, to hold him, to hear his voice.

He remembers cradling Mitch against him, Mitch gripping Scott's shirt weakly, but smiling, because Scott was singing. "_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray," _he was sobbing as he sung, gasping for breath and stumbling over his words, stuttering in his desperation for Mitch to _live. _

Mitch joined in with him, on the very last verse, creating a final harmony. After the song was finished, Mitch mouthed "_I love you._" And Scott had just enough time to tell Mitch the same, that he loves Mitch, when Mitch's body went limp and the light left his eyes.

Scott had sobbed, begging for God to just let him have five more minutes, just _five_ _more_ _minutes, _with his love. But he never got them, even though he wanted them for the rest of his life.

His sunshine had been taken away, and so he lived in darkness.

_You are my sunshine,_

_My only sunshine_

_You make me happy_

_When skies are gray_

_You'll never know, dear,_

_How much I love you_

_Please, don't take my sunshine away_


	9. Ice Skating

_***A/N: So… I might have felt guilty for writing the angst fest that was You Are My Sunshine, so I wrote you guys a sickeningly sweet drabble. Hope this makes you feel better!***_

"Um, I think I've changed my mind about doing this," Mitch said worriedly as he looked out across the slippery ice rink, where professional skaters along with the regulars were skating smoothly around.

Scott looked at Mitch, half amused and half irritated. "Mitch, that's the fifth time you've said that today."

"This time I mean it. I'm not going out there."

"What's so bad about it?"

Mitch gave him an especially dramatic eye roll. "If I were to go out there, I would die in less than five minutes. Why? Because I can't even _skate, _I have terrible balance, and I'm likely to slip, fall, and stab my eyes out or something."

Scott raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend. "And how, exactly, would you stab your eyes out?"

Mitch raised his foot and turned it so that you could see the gleaming metal blade attached to the rubber bottom. He, too, raised an eyebrow, as if to say, _Need I say more?_

Scott sighed, exasperated, and hopped out onto the ice. He reached out a gloved hand and grabbed Mitch's mitten, dragging him out onto the rink. "Scott!" Mitch yelped, but he didn't try to stop the blonde from pulling him.

Once the small tenor hit the ice, he wobbled dangerously. He tried to move his foot as if he were walking, and the skate slipped out from underneath him, sending his falling face forward into Scott's chest. "Whoa, there," Scott laughed, helping his boyfriend back into a standing position. Mitch just glared at him.

"Alright, let's go," Scott announced, beginning to move forward. "NO!" Mitch half screamed, clinging onto Scott's coat a little too tightly. He seemed to recompose himself once Scott had stopped in alarm. "I don't think I'm quite ready to move yet."

Scott smirked. "We're moving, Mitch. We're blocking people's paths."

Before Mitch had any time to protest, they were moving forward. Even though they were moving slowly, Mitch still stumbled along, still gripping Scott's hand and coat. He studied Scott's movements closely and imitated them, and soon he was gliding along with ease.

"I guess this isn't so bad," he thought aloud. Scott looked at him with an unreadable expression. It took Mitch a few moments to realize that it was love, however cheesy that sounded. It made him feel warm and fuzzy, and he couldn't keep his large smile off of his face.

Scott eyed him warily. "You're enjoying this more than I thought."

Mitch just grinned wider and let go of Scott's hand briefly before touching his face, red from the cold, and he kissed him. Scott kissed back eagerly, and when they pulled apart, he said, "Whoa."

Mitch just gave him a grin and said cheekily, "Yes, I'm enjoying this_ a lot _more, even though it's mostly because you're here."

He laughed at Scott's pleased expression and kissed the look off of his boyfriend's face.


	10. The Blame Is On the Groceries

_***A/N: For l'eau, who had this brilliant idea long ago. So sorry for the extremely late post! Hope you enjoy it, despite its lateness.***_

So, here's the whole story.

Mitch and Scott had just gotten back from grocery shopping – Mitch had dragged Scott with him – and were climbing the stairs. Naturally, the elevator had been out of order that entire week, so the couple had been scaling the many flights of stairs with their arms full of groceries. Mitch could barely see over the humungous pile of paper bags he was carrying, so he couldn't look at Scott.

In fact, he couldn't _really _see where he was going. So, of course, he accidentally rammed into Scott when he took his next step forward.

Let's just say, Scott tumbled backwards with a very, _very _shrill scream.

Unfortunately, they had been near the top of the staircase, so Scott fell down a long way. Mitch had dropped his groceries in shock, sending lettuce and various other vegetables bouncing down the stairs. He had rushed down to his moaning boyfriend, who was shouting out every profanity he knew, clutching his arm.

Fifteen minutes later, they were in a car driving to the hospital. Scott had a mild fracture in his right arm, and was fitted with a cast. Scott had asked for a bright pink one, being the dork that he was.

And so, that's how Mitch ended up sitting next to his boyfriend on the couch, doodling on Scott's neon pink cast, with a sinking feeling of guilt swirling around his stomach. It _had _been his fault that they now had a fairly large medical bill, and _he _was the cause of Scott's pain.

Mitch drew a small heart near Scott's elbow, and guiltily looked up at the blonde. Scott looked back at him, an amused expression on his face. "What?" Scott asked, mock-offended.

"I just wanted to say sorry."

Scott's expression morphed into one of surprise. "Why?"

Mitch looked at him, incredulous. "I bumped into you, causing you to break your arm, and the big medical bill, and—"

"Okay, okay. I get it," Scott chuckled. "And, I suppose I forgive you," he sighed dramatically, as if it caused him a great pain to say it. Mitch grinned, relieved, and resumed his doodling.

"You'd better leave enough room for signatures. I've never broken anything before – I want the whole package," Scott said absentmindedly, gazing at the TV.

Mitch rolled his eyes and began to draw a smiley face. "Oh, you know you love my drawings."

Scott peered down at the matrix on his arm that was Mitch's doodle collection. He raised his eyebrow. "I would be so sure…."

"Hey!" Mitch smacked his shoulder lightly, laughing. Scott grinned, "Just kidding, I love them."

He leant over and kissed Mitch soundly on the lips, smiling into the kiss. He pulled back to rest his forehead on Mitch's. "I love _you._"

Mitch rolled his eyes, grinning. "That was the cheesiest thing ever." He gave Scott a light peck on his lips. "But that's why I love you."

"That was even cheesier."

"I know."

Mitch grabbed Scott's face and pulled him in for another kiss, both of them smiling crazily.


	11. Tickles

Scott glanced into the living room, pausing in his cleaning of the kitchen (God, it was so messy. He could hardly stand it anymore), to see Mitch lying on his stomach on the couch, messing around on his phone.

"Hey, Mitch?" Scott said loudly.

"Hm?" Mitch hummed, not taking his eyes off of his phone screen.

"Could you come help me clean, maybe?"

"Er-I'm a little busy."

Scott rolled his eyes. Mitch was obviously _not _busy in the slightest. Lazy-ass.

He walked into the living room and yanked the phone out of Mitch's hands, Mitch following his movements quickly with an indignant "Hey!"

Scott dangled the phone teasingly above Mitch's head, his height making it easy to drag the phone up out of Mitch's reach. "Ha, Shortie," he laughed. Mitch stood on tip-toe and reach up, but only his fingertips grazed the bottom edge of the phone. "If you want your phone back, come and help me with the kitchen," Scott said, sure he had this in the bag. Mitch jumped, but Scott yanked the phone back further before he could grab it.

"Help me with the kitchen!"

"Never!" Mitch told him defiantly. He gave up all attempts to grab the phone and resorted to giving Scott puppy-eyes. Scott immediately looked away. "That won't work this time, Mitch."

Mitch sighed. "Fine."

"'Fine' meaning you'll help clean?"

"Of course not. 'Fine' meaning I'll get my phone another way."

Scott raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? And what would that be?"

Mitch grinned evilly, and Scott had a moment of doubt. That moment of doubt proved itself to be correct, for Mitch lunged and attacked Scott, tickling his stomach. Scott immediately started laughing, swatting Mitch hands away and curling in on himself to create less space for Mitch to tickle. "No!" he yelled, falling onto the couch.

Mitch laughed manically, tickling Scott's neck, stomach, and the bottoms of his feet. The phone had fallen out of Scott's hand long ago, but neither of them seemed to notice.

Scott rolled around, trying to shake Mitch off of him. The only way to defend against this was tickling his attacker right back. He reached out and tickled Mitch's stomach. The reaction was immediate.

Mitch, taken aback, stumbled back laughing. "Okay, Scott, I can play at this game!"

Soon, they were rolling around the floor, laughing and screaming playfully, Wyatt dancing around them, curious as to why his owners were acting so strangely.

Finally, about fifteen minutes later, the couple lay on their backs against the carpet, faces red from laughing and wiping tears from their eyes. "Okay," Mitch gasped, still giggling a little. "I'll help."

Scott turned his head to look at him. "You swear on that?"

Mitch nodded. "Yeah, I swear. Anything to not get tickled again."

"Alright. We'll get up in a minute, okay?"

They never really got to cleaning the kitchen, Scott is ashamed to admit. Oh well, he got kisses instead.


	12. Rollercoasters Are Ridiculous

Mitch stared up at the tall metal structure, nervousness swirling around uncomfortably in his stomach. Scott leaned down to him to say softly, "Are you sure you want to ride?"

Mitch scowled at his boyfriend's amused tone and steeled his determination. "_Yes,_" he said as firmly as he possibly could without his voice shaking. He resumed his terrified gazing, for once grateful that the line was long and moving slowly.

The rollercoaster they were waiting in line for was… _tall. _And loopy. The sign at the front of the contraption stated that you had to be at least eighteen years of age and at least 48" tall to ride. The rollercoaster was lovingly named _Death by Destruction _because Mitch definitely needed more fear in his experience.

As much as Mitch was hesitant to ride, Scott was excited. He was extremely jittery, a big grin plastered on his face as he waited impatiently for the line to move along.

"They need to add more seats to the rollercoaster," Scott told him, once again craning his neck to see the poor, miserable people going through the many loops. Mitch grimaced in anticipation.

"I think the line is moving pretty fast," Mitch stated as the line made its first inch forward in fifteen minutes. Scott raised an eyebrow at this but wisely refrained from commenting. Mitch took a calming breath and waited for his doom.

Scott frowned at him. "You look like you're in line for the guillotine."

"I'm fine."

"Are you _sure _you want to go on this?"

Mitch waved off his concerned boyfriend, who was fluttering around like a kid who'd had too many sweets. Mitch smiled slightly at the attention, but the grin was wiped off of his face when he noticed that only three people were in front of them.

Which meant they were next.

The couple was ushered into two seats near the back. They were buckled, and a bar was lowered over them. Mitch gripped it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Scott glanced nervously at him, and opened his mouth to say something. They shot off, and Scott's words were ripped away by the wind and Mitch's screams of absolute terror.

"HOLY FUUUUUUUUCK!" Mitch screamed as they dipped down a dive and went around a loop."SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!"

The screaming did not stop until they were safely pulling into the exit. Mitch clambered out and dragged Scott with him outside, where he sat down on a bench to gain his bearings.

"Never. Again," he said quietly.

Scott laughed and subconsciously rubbed his arm, where Mitch had gripped it so tightly that Scott was concerned that it was going to bruise.

"Do you want something to eat? I'm starving," Scott offered, taking Mitch's hand in his own. Mitch smiled and nodded. Scott kissed his boyfriend's cheek and dragged him off to a cotton candy stand, ready to explore the rest of the theme park. Mitch willingly followed.

0o0

**Alright, guys, here's an update! But, on a more important matter, I have gotten an offer to translate by a guest called Liza Grassi. Liza, I cannot respond to your requests because they are on a guest review system, and this site doesn't allow me to respond to those. Please, do not post anything of mine anywhere without my permission. That is uncalled for. There are too many requests to translate this work into Russian right now for me to say yes to any of them. Thank you for understanding.**

**turn-the-pages**


	13. Is It Alright If I Love You?

**Omg, guys, I'm so sorry for the **_**extremely**_** long wait! I've been busy with homework and other stories (new ones!), but I managed to find time to whip up a little something for the drabbles. The new chapter of Lend Me Your Wings should be out soon, but don't take my word for it – I'm notorious for not living up to my update scheduale. I hope you enjoy, though!**

**Is It Alright If I Love You?**

Mitch raised an eyebrow at a small statuette of the Statue of Liberty, on which the green paint was already chipping. "I can't believe you even got me to step foot in this store," Mitch told Scott as the blond picked up a mask and playfully put it on. Scott laughed at his boyfriend, still giddy that he could just simply reach out and kiss Mitch whenever he wanted without problem.

"C'mon, Mitch, it's just a dollar store."

"Yeah, a crappy, dirty one," Mitch mumbled, eyeing a puddle of God-knows-what that was in the middle of the aisle they were in. "I can't believe you're actually getting Kirstie's gift here," he said, stepping over the puddle to stand beside Scott.

Scott rolled his eyes playfully and picked up something off of a shelf. "It's a gag gift. I'm getting her something else also." He slipped the object – a ring – onto his finger and wiggled his digits in front of Mitch's face obnoxiously. "What do you think?"

"Is gorgeous," Mitch said dryly, before noticing something that perked his interest. The cool blue color of the ring was changing quickly into a warm shade of pink. "Is that a mood ring?"

Scott frowned and looked at his hand. "I guess."

Mitch noticed a card lying of the shelf and pulled it out – it was a key card for the colors. He located Scott's color immediately and giggled. "It says you're in love," he sang teasingly. "Who is it, Scott? Should I be jealous?"

Scott blushed violently and wrenched the ring off of his finger immediately. "Nobody, Mitch. I mean, we've only started dating, right?"

Mitch looked inquiringly at his boyfriend, raising an eyebrow. "Where did that come from?"

If possible, Scott blushed an even darker red. "Um, nowhere. Besides, all mood rings do is take your temperature to decide the color, right? It has nothing to do with your actual feelings, so you shouldn't take them too serio—"

"Are you in _love, _Scott?" Mitch said incredulously, torn between hope and jealousy, unsure of what to feel.

"Uh," Scott said intelligently.

"With who?" Mitch demanded, deciding to feel jealous and afraid that Scott was already slipping away from him. When Scott didn't respond, Mitch's heart dropped along with his expression. "Who?"

Scott pressed his lips together. "You," he said quietly, looking down at the ground. Itch's expression cleared.

"What?"

"You, Mitch. I'm in love with you. It's fine if you don't feel that way, or if you want to break up, I'm sorry, I—"

"Shut up!" Mitch cried shrilly, a huge grin spread across his face. He practically jumped on Scott, capturing his lips in a long, sweet kiss and breaking away eventually. "I love you too, idiot," Mitch told him, taking advantage of Scott's momentary speechlessness.

Scott didn't say anything, instead kissing Mitch again, hard.

They ended up buying the mood ring.


	14. The Most Excellent, Dude

"I've decided," Scott began, plopping himself down next to Mitch, who was invested in his phone. "That I am going to show you one of the best movies in all of movie history."

Mitch raised an eyebrow, eyes glued to his phone. He could already smell popcorn wafting from the large glass bowl in Scott's hands. "Is this going to be 'Highlander' all over again?"

Scott shifted guiltily. "No, it's not. Highlander didn't work out too well."

Mitch snorted. "That's an understatement. The only redeeming quality was Freddie Mercury, and even his songs were the cheesiest things to ever cheese."

Scott rolled his eyes and hopped up from the couch, sliding a DVD into the player so that Mitch couldn't see what he was about to be sucked into. "It's nothing like Highlander," Scott reassured him as he got comfortable on the couch. "It's more of a comedy, and it's brilliant. It is _most excellent._"

Mitch looked at him suspiciously as he cackled at his own joke. "That was terrible grammar, Scott," Mitch said, amused as he watched his boyfriend double over in laughter at his response.

"I know!" Scott said excitedly, pressing the play button on the remote and turning the volume up to dangerous levels.

"If I go deaf, it's your fault," Mitch told the blond, snuggling up next to him anyway. Scott gave him a wicked grin.

"Oh, you won't care. You'll be too busy laughing."

Scott immediately went silent as the movie began, and Mitch watched, bemused, as the title 'Bill and Ted's Most Excellent Adventure' slapped itself across the screen. At least he understood Scott's laughter from earlier.

The moment it started, Mitch instantly knew two things: one, this movie was going to be a stupidly funny one. Two: this movie was so eighties it _hurt._

The character Bill had his blonde hair in tight curls, gelled Elvis-style. His shirt was like those crop-tops girls wore at the mall. They _tied their shirts to their waists. _Ted had bright orange pants on.

It hurt to look at.

Phrases like 'That was most heinous, dude,' and 'Non-non-non-triumphant' were said many times, along with the more popular saying of 'That was most excellent, dude!', usually followed by a brief air-guitar exchange. References to eighties bands were thrown willy-nilly.

And Mitch loved _every second _of it.

As the movie ended, the screen fading to black, Mitch nearly pounced on Scott in his excitement. "That was most excellent, dude!" he teased, his cheeks hurting from smiling so much throughout the movie.

Scott laughed at him and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "I guess you liked it?" he asked, giving Mitch another kiss.

"Totally, dude."

Scott booped Mitch's nose with his finger and shuffled out from underneath him, returning the bowl to the kitchen.

"We are going to do most terrifically on our tour next week," Scott said, making his voice eerily similar to Bill's. Mitch giggled and followed him into the kitchen, poking him.

"Do you think we should show the others?"

Scott snorted. "No, they'd be talking like that for the entire tour."

Six days later, Avi, Kirstie, and Kevin were already fed up with the 'Most excellent"s, the "Most heinously"s and, most of all, the "Bogus"s.

It was the most excellent tour, dude.


	15. Not So Scary

**This is kind of long for a drabble. Oops.**

Mitch wasn't quite sure when it started doing its… ghost things. Ghost things being things like flinging the peanut butter jar across the kitchen right before you stick your spoon in it and writing weird things on the fogged mirror while you're in the shower. It also enjoyed fun ghost activities like banging on the windows and doors at night and splashing crap onto the floor, walls, and ceiling – which was a pain in the ass for Mitch to clean off, thank you.

At first it was scary; don't get him wrong – Scott was actually the first to have an encounter, being home alone while Mitch was out with Kirstie. He was editing the new Superfruit video, headphones on and eyes glued to the screen, when he noticed the room's temperature drop suddenly. He looked up, and someone had written 'get out' all over the walls. In peanut butter.

Scott had run out of the apartment building and called Mitch, relaying the story between heavy breaths. Mitch had, unwittingly, rolled his eyes and hung up the phone, assuming this was some prank a bored Scott had come up with.

It had sounded like something Scott would do at the time, okay?

Mitch had continued to be skeptical for the rest of that week and was a little annoyed that Scott hadn't dropped it by the following Monday. "It's real!" Scott said, seemingly on repeat. "It happened!"

Scott had even shown Mitch the peanut butter all over the walls as proof. This only served to make the shorter man upset, seeing as Scott had borrowed his Mac to edit and was in Mitch's room, making the peanut butter mess happen on _his_ walls. Mitch had forced Scott to clean the crap off of the walls with a wet dishrag, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that Scott had fucking smeared _peanut butter _all over the _freaking walls_.

Luckily for Scott, Mitch met the ghost in a kitchen encounter a few days later. Mitch had been standing by the fridge, ordering a pizza, when all of the drawers and cabinets suddenly flung themselves open. Their contents flew out and spilled all over: the knives sticking out of the walls and silverware buried in the hard wood floors. With a burst of adrenaline, Mitch dropped his phone and ran into the living room, dragging Scott with him and interrupting his _Golden Girls _marathon.

Once outside and adrenaline still pumping through him, Mitch had stood on tiptoe and dragged Scott in for a kiss. Scott seemed to be into it, so they talked (at Starbucks – there was no way Mitch was going back into that God-forsaken apartment), and decided that they could start something together.

The ghost had gotten particularly restless once they started dating ("Great!" Mitch shouted from his bedroom as he stared at the YOU ARE SINNERS scrawled across the ground in ketchup (by the end of this whole ordeal they'd had to replace almost everything in the fridge and pantry). "We have a homophobic ghost on _top_ of having a ghost!") and there was an incident almost every day.

Things would get especially annoying when they would try to have a date, or kiss, and he'd ruin it. Once they started sleeping in the same room, converting Scott's old room into a fun office/exercise place, he'd started banging around at night. Mitch had invested in some high quality ear plugs.

They'd seen him a couple of times, and had found out he was an old, crooked man with a long beard and no eyes. Mitch had shuddered at the first couple of sightings, screamed at the very first, but he had popped out of so many places that they were both desensitized to the whole 'no eyes' issue.

After about six months, Chad (Mitch jokingly called him Chad once and the name stuck) started to lose his creativity.

Mitch and Scott started to consider calling someone the moment Scott opened the cereal box and Chad had popped out of it, screaming bloody murder. Scott had ignored him and poured his Cheerios.

He wasn't even s_cary _anymore; he was just a nuisance.

They looked up priests on the Internet, even put up an ad, and they got a response by a priest from Lawrence with the name of Dean Plant. Two days after they gave the address, Dean Plant arrived. Another priest was with him, but Mitch was too tired to question them about it.

"You don't look like priests," Scott blurted in an accusatory tone, before covering his mouth and mumbling: "I'll be in the kitchen."

As Scott left, the shorter priest smiled and said, "Hi, I'm Father Dean and this is Father Sam Page, we're here about that ghost?"

"Yeah, come in," Mitch invited, putting some enthusiasm into his words. The past few days had been trying, with Chad popping up out of their flower pot and closet. Twice.

Father Dean dumped a duffel bag unceremoniously onto the couch, and as Mitch studied Father Sam's towering 6'4" frame, he agreed that they didn't look like priests. But he wanted the ghost out, so he decided to let the maybe-not-priests do their work.

"If you guy's would leave the apartment and come back in a few hours, that'd be great," Father Sam said, smiling kindly.

"Yeah, totally," Mitch told him, trying not to sound too eager. "Come on, Scott."

They had a lovely date, Mitch snuck a few kisses, and when they came home, they received two priest's emergency numbers and Chad was gone.

Mitch tried not to think about the fact that Chad was the reason he and Scott were together, and they were happy.

**Sorry for not updating in a while! I couldn't think of any ideas for a drabble, until a brainchild was suddenly born whilst watching **_**Supernatural. **_**I was thinking to myself: what if Scott and Mitch had a ghost problem? This was also inspired by a great X-Men fic I read (Cherik) called **_**Resting in Peace Was Never an Option. **_**It's on AO3, so check it out if you like the pairing/fandom! The next chapter of **_**Extraordinary **_**is under construction, so keep your eyes open! Thanks for reading!**

_**turn-the-pages**_


	16. Three Little Words

He was _so close _to saying it.

So. Fucking. _Close._

But every time he opened his mouth to say it to him, those three, little, terrifying little words, his voice died in his throat. Every time he worked through the first two, he changed the subject to 'your shirt' or 'this pizza'. He was _ashamed, _but he was also afraid.

And fear seemed to always win the battle.

Mitch stared at Scott, his thoughts flying at one million miles an hour, breath caught in his throat. He was so lucky. So, _so _lucky to have Scott, to be able to hold hands and kiss him and accept his _I love you'_s without ever having to say them back, because Scott was kind and understanding and loving.

It wasn't that Mitch didn't love Scott. He was the furthest thing from simply not loving him.

He almost wished that was the case, because he could then pack up his things and say 'see you later' without a second glance and free of guilt. But, he loved his Scott with everything from his soul to his mind, but he couldn't say it. He couldn't say it for many reasons.

It meant commitment. It meant he could be hurt, that Scott had his heart in his hands and that he could crush it at any moment. It meant that what had happened in the past could happen with Scott.

Even after a full year of stuttering through botched attempts of confessions and anxiety itching up his throat, every night, Mitch was able to whisper those three, little, courage-sucking words to Scott's sleeping face.

Tonight should have been the same, but after Mitch whispered the short words into blond hair, he felt that they were empty, fear-filled, and worthless. Those words should never feel that way.

"Scott," Mitch whispered, shaking his boyfriend's shoulder, and then scooting back a little.

He stared at his face, waiting with baited breath, heart pounding.

No way was he going to do this.

But he was, wasn't he?

After Scott didn't stir, Mitch pushed himself up onto his elbow and shook Scott harshly. "Wake up!"

Scott moved underneath his hand, and Mitch yanked it away as if he had been burned. "What the fuck, Mitch?" Scott mumbled, turning his head and cracking open one eye to look at the glowing alarm clock. "It is three fucking A.M."

Mitch could only look at him with wide eyes, his heart in his throat.

Scott looked at him for a moment, and then, seeming to register that something was off, he sat up until his eyes could meet Mitch's evenly. He frowned. "What's the matter?"

"I-I want to tell, tell you that, um," Mitch struggled for the words, his heart pounding so hard that it was all he could hear.

"It's alright, Mitch, you can tell me."

"I love you," Mitch whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them again to see Scott's face, which made everything he'd exposed worth it.

Scott looked somewhere between ecstatic and I-can-hardly-believe-this, and tears were in his eyes.

"I love you," Mitch stated again, feeling more confident, more _trusting_.

"I love you," Scott said, and, reaching out, pulled Mitch tight against him, Mitch wrapping his own arms around Scott's broad back.

Mitch fell asleep in Scott's arms and Scott in his, and had the best night's sleep of his life. He couldn't care less what their future would be, he didn't worry about his heart getting crushed in uncaring hands, because he knew that Scott was the one for him.

He loved Scott, and he was able to say it freely everyday, anytime.

It felt _amazing._

x

**I am so, so sorry that I haven't updated in a while! I've been busy with other stories, writings separate from Wattpad, and family. But today I was just sitting around, watching ****_Psych, _****and so I thought, why not? I was only spurred on when I realized that I hadn't updated in so long. I hope you enjoyed! **

**~ turn-the-pages**


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